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His lips curved into a wicked smile, promising both pleasure and danger. “One and the same.” He had exchanged his bespoke suit for a cream-colored linen pirate shirt tucked into caramel-colored leather pants that molded perfectly to long, muscular legs.
As she examined him more closely, she noted the fine lines at the corners of his eyes and bracketing his mouth. Rather than making him look older, they softened his almost-painful beauty. The guy looked way better than anyone had a right to. But what the hell was he doing at The Enclave?
“What are you doing here?” she blurted before she could stop herself.
Beau chuckled. “I could ask you the same question, but Mark gave me the abbreviated version.” He placed a hand on the back of her neck, the dominant gesture sending another spasm through her loins. “We need to get out of Jeremy’s way. Come with me and I’ll get you fixed up. Then we can talk about our colliding worlds.”
That made Lia laugh in spite of herself. After a quick thanks to Jeremy for the awesome session, she allowed Beau to lead her from the dungeon to the living room. He snagged a bottle of chilled water from one of the food tables as they made their way to an available aftercare station.
Each station included a portable utility cart stocked with first-aid items. Atop the cart there was a mini hot towel cabinet filled with damp rolled washcloths, along with several tubes of the amazing salve that Mistress Aubrey, The Enclave’s resident physician, had compounded at a special pharmacy. There was also a small, neatly folded stack of waffle weave robes like the kind spas handed out.
Lia glanced at the padded stool by the cabinet, but, ass still smarting from the whipping, she remained standing. “This is totally weird,” she said as Beau opened and handed her the bottle of chilled water. “I can’t get my head around your being here.”
“It is kind of wild,” he agreed with a grin. “Though I guess not a total surprise, given that we’re both seriously into the scene. Mark and I go back a few years. We met at a private BDSM club in Charlotte and struck up a friendship. When he heard I was moving back to Asheville, he thought I might enjoy getting involved here at The Enclave.”
Holy shit! Beau must be the new part-time Enclave trainer Lucia had mentioned in her text.
He cocked his head, smiling quizzically at her. “Uh, is there a reason your mouth’s hanging open? Is it something I said?”
Lia at once snapped her mouth shut, chagrined. “Just relaxing my jaw after the intense session,” she said lamely.
Again, that knowing smile. “Right.” Beau dropped his gear bag.
“So,” he said casually as he opened the hot towel cabinet. “Are you and my cousin together? Does he know you’re in the scene?”
Lia snorted. “No and no. We’re just friends.”
“Ah,” he said, his tone neutral. Was he fishing? Or just curious? She couldn’t quite tell.
With a practiced touch, he ran a warm, damp cloth over the welts left by Jeremy’s whips. He dropped the towel into a basin and reached for the tube of salve. “Is this aftercare balm? I don’t see any label.”
“That’s Mistress Aubrey’s miracle salve,” Lia replied, glad for something concrete to focus on. “She’s a physician, and she has this stuff specially made for exclusive use by The Enclave. It’s better than any over-the-counter stuff you can get.”
“Cool.” Beau squirted some onto his fingers. Without looking at her, he asked, “So, how old are you, if that’s not too personal a question?”
“Old enough to know what I want,” she retorted.
A half smile lifted his sensual lips, his eyes glittering in a way that made her insides go hot and cold at once. He placed a hand lightly on her shoulder, his touch burning her skin.
“And what might that be, Lia? What exactly is it that you want?”
Lia had always considered herself good at flirting while never letting the guy get the upper hand. But, as she met Beau’s gaze, heat rose in her cheeks. Ordering herself to stop acting like a twit, she lifted her chin and asserted, “Anything involving whips and chains.”
His smile broadened to something more genuine. He had lovely, even white teeth. “And rope, I hope. We mustn’t forget rope.”
Lia laughed, some of her tension easing. “Yes. Rope is good. Absolutely.”
“Glad to hear that.”
He didn’t elaborate, instead gently dabbing the salve over Lia’s heated skin. She relaxed into his touch, a sigh of pleasure escaping her lips. Almost instantly, the salve’s anesthetic properties soothed away any lingering sting. It smelled good, too, of cloves and eucalyptus.
“There’s only one mark here that might give you a little trouble.” He ran a finger lightly over a tender spot at the top of her left buttock. “What’s your pain level, overall?”
“I’m fine. Ready for round two.”
Jesus. Had she really just said that? She sounded like an idiot. To cover her discomfiture, she reached back to touch the welt. He’d put an extra dab over it, leaving it gooey to the touch. “I’m not sure about sitting on Enclave furniture with this salve still on my skin.”
“You could always kneel on a floor cushion like a proper slave,” Beau suggested with an arched brow.
